Our Side of It
by BlackEyedSusan
Summary: The events of the book from Randy's point of view... His feelings and thoughts, as well as his side of everything that happened. PG-13 just to be safe, I don't think I'll need it but just to be safe.
1. Default Chapter

Hey ppl!!! Just another idea comin outa my cra-zy crack-smokin mind… that's what the guy at cups coffee told me this morning!!! Hope ya like it!!!!

BlackEyedSusan

Before I actually write the story I want ya to read this loverly song I wrote… it's a Christmas parody…

You better watch out

You better not cry

You better not pout

I'm telling you why

Santa Claus is comin' to kill.

He's makin' a list

He's checkin' it twice

Gonna find out who he's killin' tonight

Santa Claus is comin' to town

He sees you when you're sleepin'

He sees you at work too

He sees you at the grocery store

Cause he is stalking you

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh…

You better watch out

You better not cry

You better not pout

I'm telling you why

Santa Claus is comin' to kill.

He has got a shotgun

He's also got a blade

He's known throughout the country

So you'd better run away…

He sees you when you're sleepin'

He sees you at work too

He sees you at the grocery store

Cause he is stalking you

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh…

You better watch out

You better not cry

You better not pout

I'm telling you why

Santa Claus is comin' to kill.

Hahahehehe, isn't that great?????!??! Now one w/ da story!!!!

ME AGAIN

So one day I was just walkin' down the street, mindin' my own business, when this ugly old guy came up beside me.

"You wanna buy some beer?"

My initial reaction was 'get away from me you old druggie,' but my mom always taught me to be nice to old people, so I simply said, 'no thank you.'

But this old guy was persistant.

"My wife's dyin'," he said, "I've got no money. My kids are all flyin' down here in a couple of weeks, but we don't have enough money. We can't check her into the hospital." He looked real pathetic. I felt sorry for him. I was extremely reluctant, but I took the beer. Gave him ten bucks for it, too. I was thinkin', 'I'll give it to my dad or somethin',' but of course, that's not what happened. I went to a party. I took my six-pack with me, and I drank. I drank my heart out. It felt good then, but I wouldn't be half the loser I am today if it hadn't happened.

My name's Randall Adderson, but the larger half of the population calls me Randy. Everyone except my Aunt Grace, who insists on calling me 'Randall Glenford Adderson, III,' all the time. Luckily she lives in Boston. I live at 3522 Beechwood Lane in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I've got a fairly good life, nothing to complain about, really. I'm pretty high on the social status ladder, or at least, I was before… well, I'll get to that later. I'm what they'd call a Soc, a jock. Socially elite. A.K.A rich kid with a big house. Me and my friends, we had a lot goin' for us, you know? We had the looks, the wheels, the babes… a big hunk of land was the cherry on top. Robert Sheldon, my best friend, an I were almost of superstar status in our school, an we had seemingly perfect lives. We went to wild parties on the river bed. We dated cheerleaders. We drank hard. It was a great life.

The only thing keeping our city from being perfect was the greasers, Aka the poor kids with no future who greased their hair and dropped out of school. They seemed like the only obstacle between us Socs and our perfect lives. So we battled it out. Them for their pride and dignity, us for the good name we deserved. We never gave it a rest, and we're just lucky no one got seriously injured. At least, not very often.

Right now I'm sitting in a Court House, looking up at the presiding judge, going over my testimony. It's a murder trial. Guy who did it's dead, but seems we drove him to it. Long story. I don't really know where to start. Only beginning point I can think of was a few months ago, in late September…

_**Flashback**_

_"Hey Randy?" Bob's hand quivered on the wheel. "Any beer left?"_

_"Nup, pal, you drunk the last one," I said, my own words rather slurred, "What we gonna do?"_

_"We're gonna find us a little bit o fun," he said, grinning crazily. "You see that?" _

_I looked out his window. We were in the middle of greaser territory, and right in front of a large abandoned looking lot. In the middle of the lot was a small guy, a few inches shorter than me, but a whole lot thinner. He was kicking around an old football. I saw the look on Bob's face and didn't even have to guess._

_"You game, Randy?" I nodded. "David? Sam? Y'all up for it?" _

_We were all drunk as the devil as we unloaded Bob's little blue Mustang. The guy didn't see us until we were within twenty feet of him, then he threw the football to the side and started backing away. Bob was glinting his rings in the sunlight, and I saw the look on the kid's face. He was terrified. Bob reached toward him, cussing him out in a low voice, and took a swing. The kid swung back. Probably could have held his own against Bob if none of us ha been there. But he was by himself, and there were five of us. He didn't stand a chance, but that didn't stop us. We were all over him, and even though he was putting up a good fight, he couldn't hold us off. He was bleeding all over everywhere, and I was beginning to think we'd killed him…_

_"Come on. Let's get out of here." Bob's voice called us off. I stood up and looked at what we'd done…_

_**End of flashback**_

Turns out, I'm about to testify for that kid's murder trial. He killed Bob. Not in cold blood, though. He was provoked. And since no other witnesses are going to testify and give the truth, I'm going to do it myself. All the other guys are too selfish, they all lied and said we weren't doing anything. But we were, and no matter how hard I try, I can't shake the damn truth. The other people testifying are Bob's girlfriend, Cherry, and some greaser that was there. We almost killed him. We were drunk, we were looking for a fight, and, unfortunately, we got it. Sometimes the truth hurts, but all in all and I can't bring myself to say anything else.

Chapter 1

Sooooooo…

Howdya like it???? I need reviews, people, or I won't update!!!!!! Comeon, I know you got like a minute to spare!!!!


	2. What I Remember

Chapter 2

"Randall Glenford Adderson, III? Please approach the stand." I prepared to spill my guts before the entire court, like I had longed to for so long…

"Now Randall, could you please tell us what happened on Saturday, November 23, in your own words, please?"

I looked around nervously, not sure about what to say or how to say it. I was a little bit startled to hear my voice begin rattling off the events of the night, almost as if I was reliving them…

About three thirty that afternoon, Bob, Cherry, Marcia (my girlfriend) and I decided to go to the Nightly Double. Bob had some booze stashed away in his dash.

"Don't tell Cherry," he'd said, "she hates me drinking."

We'd gone to the movie, as planned, but when Bob brought out the booze, the girls went hysterical.

"You know what will happen!" Cherry had warned, going off on Bob about the effects that drinking had on him. I watched on, drinking all the while, until finally Cherry had said, "Fine." And dragged Marcia away with her. I didn't really care- I was already a little bit drunk, but Bob was really mad. He drank and drank until he was reeling pickled, then we too left the Nightly Double. For about three hours we just drove around in circles, searching for Cherry and Marcia, all the while drinking our beer and cherry Vodka. How we managed to stay on the road, I still have no idea, but we did it. We found them, finally, but they weren't alone.

Cherry and Marcia were walking down the street with three greasers that I knew from school. Well, I knew who they were. I recognized one, Johnny Cade, as the kid we'd beat so badly that day. He still looked real scared.

"You call reeling and passing out on the streets 'a little'?" I heard Cherry screech. I turned to Marcia.

"You know we don't drink very often, baby," I tried. She ignored me. "Even if you're mad at us, that's no excuse to go walking the streets with these bums."

That almost started a fight, but the girls agreed to ride home with us, they don't like fighting. The whole way home Bob was yelling at Cherry about why she'd been with the greasers.

"I don't know," 'she yelled, "maybe I like being around people who listen to me every once in a while, Robert!" She was crying when we dropped her and Marcia at her house.

"Damn it," Bob said. "I didn't mean to make her mad…" he looked around the car for a second. "You know what? I'm gonna kill that goddamn greaser. I'm gonna show him to mess with my girl…"

Short, yes, but good????? Review please!!!! I NEED SUPPORT OR ILL GO ON STRIKE!!!!!


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